Horsetail is a type of weed; it never tires
Of itself. Make your big hands useful, and un-
Screw this greedy pipe. Second of all,
Habit and opinion failed to teach you;
Holly’s not a weed. Go toss it in the waste
Bin with your pride. They love mechanics,
Angels do. On PBS, they say the past is always
Read more "We Install a Sump Pump on (What Used To Be) a Holiday (Take 4)"
On the move. Well, you’re my engineer;
The past is time’s hypotenuse, right, dear?
Comfortable in the cold,
Read more "Wildling"
mist tendrils rising
across morning garden,
dry in the rising wind.
Cracking this year’s journal,
I release pleasure to the river.
Behind a dome of December clouds,
the sun struggles.
I’m A Vaccine Against Dumb Mistakes
and I’m here to rescue you
who want to borrow money,
Nigerian princes and
misspelling Johns Hopkins.
I am here to stop you from
Read more "I’m A Vaccine Against Dumb Mistakes"
texting while driving,
applying mascara while driving,
eating while driving,
(you get the idea)
Ocean to horizon…
land to horizon…
a woman stands
She stares at the distance
Read more "Horizon Views"
and dreams of where
driftwood was born
as its temporary home
snags her shore.
Never a moment of still air. Memories
a rib-crack and a hard hard way to breathe.
In the living room a dream like an infection
hid beneath the couch covers. I kept my eyes closed
tight. What happens when a past looms against endless sky
spilling cyclones and debris. Whimpers, strings
of saliva, the space between his teeth, her doggy
long tongue. I kept my eyes closed. Displaced wind,
outside squeezing through the crack beneath
Read more "So You Know Who You Are"
a door. What happens when history gasps.
My body the underside
Of a river at night, dark blue water
Strewn with a pinch of stars.
All is quiet now that I’ve lost
The will to fight. All I can conjure up
Is a lonesome silent fish, a gentle splash
Of gold on the face of the moon.
Then all falls backs into the soft,
Watery black. I’m on my back,
And my legs will not move.
All I can do is wait to be reborn.
Read more "Convalescent"
I said my goodbyes, turned back to the shore, stopped trying to find you. It took me awhile, took me a few more pink striped skies, a few more mountains, a few more years. But I found my way, wrested my skin from yours, saved myself from going under. I talk to you still, the way we always talked, close and deep without platitudes or pretense. You know I have forgiven you for all the ways you almost took me with you. You didn’t mean to, never meant for me to get swept into your undertow. You tried to stop it but I was desperate for a reason to fade away.
Read more "Rocket Man"
a raging fire, a sparkling chasm.
viper slithers to its apogee – the sun –
almost succeeds, almost destroys –
I am justified in brevity, breathing
as I, come face to face,
and so it is – angry souls in each other’s bodies –
while August burns treacherously
in the dry grasses.
Boy leaves tracks. Life trudges.
Read more "Forest Spirit"
Brooding, endorsing the searing sun,
Can’t close the seed captured here,
die brother…live sister….
no distress or bitterness or revenge –
merely randomness that
divides itself unmercifully
Woman’s white hair
wisps across like fog
on mountain top
lifting, trailing mist,
mop of paralyzed
particles hiding eyes.
Read more "Wisps"
disturbed by wind;
to opposite shore.
in the shrink’s waiting room, in a big comfy chair,
white noise machine cranked up full blast with
new age flutes floating out of Bose speakers
strategically placed to get wired up guys like
me calmed down, chilled out before entering
the sacred temple of mental and spiritual
restoration. they need me a bit numb before
beginning the session, actually eased off the
ledge of discontent upon which I’m generally
Read more "dialing down rage"
perched. And I gotta say, the waiting room
ambience generally does the trick